


Turnabout is Fair Play

by WantsUnicorns



Series: We're all Monsters here [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, HP: EWE, Magic, Multi, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 04:21:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4005700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WantsUnicorns/pseuds/WantsUnicorns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the incident in her office, Hermione waits for Lucius to finally make his move, always wondering if today is the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turnabout is Fair Play

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to K and M for the read through, you are my heros.
> 
> See the end notes for more warnings.
> 
> ETA: I fixed the tense so it would fit in better with the other pieces in this series. Thanks for pointing it out! <3

It has been almost forty minutes since a house elf had shown Hermione to the office, asking her to take a seat and proclaiming that “master will be with the mudblood” very soon. This obvious attempt to unsettle her by making her wait longer, is not lost on Hermione. What Lucius doesn’t know is that today Hermione isn’t tense at all. Scabior had been by for his scheduled appointment earlier that day and for the first time in a while she had actually indulged herself. Which is why she is feeling rather lethargic and pleasantly sore. Only a soft undercurrent of anticipation, brought on by the question of whether today is the day she has been waiting for, runs under her skin. Unlike last time, she is no longer holding her breath.

When she had received a plain envelope in the mail at work, after the incident in the office, she had been scared of what to expect. Would Lucius Malfoy expose what they had done, would he reveal what she had been doing? If he did, she would surely end up in Azkaban with all the Death Eaters and other prisoners she and the others had helped put there in the first place. It was a fairly dreary outlook.

Hermione had grabbed the envelope and rushed to the washroom, hiding in a cubicle while tearing open the paper with shaking hands. What could he possibly want from her and if he was blackmailing her, why would he send it in a letter? She was sure Lucius didn’t know her well enough to know how unnerving this entire situation was.

What had fallen into her waiting hands was a neatly folded piece of paper, listing a time and place as well as a delicate band of dark silk. She didn’t quite know what to make of it and the following days it felt like the band was burning a hole into her pocket, where she kept it in anticipation of what was to come.

That had been over a month ago, when she had finally met Lucius and brought the band, he didn’t ask for it and instead wanted to go into details while discussing his son’s case.

Hermione was too smart to be tricked into believing that Lucius didn’t have some hidden agenda. She had adapted quickly and so far all their exchanges and meetings had been perfectly professional and amicable.

Today is different already. He never before made her wait this long. Forty minutes turn into an hour, before she finally hears footsteps approaching the office. The door opens to reveal Lucius, his posture as regal as ever.

“Miss Granger, how nice of you to come by so unexpectedly.”

Unexpectedly my arse, she thinks. Two could play at this game. And she is quite certain she will win. Spending years at the Ministry, talking politely to people she despised, without letting it show have prepared her for uncomfortable situations like this. 

Maybe she grew complacent in the face of his inaction, maybe she ceased to care. So instead of the sharp retort that is sitting on the tip of her tongue, she shakes his hand when it is offered and nods when he apologises for letting her wait. It is obvious to both of them that neither is sincere. Still, despite everything, she is having fun. 

The unspoken thing between them is like a third person in the conversation, that isn’t addressed but that both of them are very aware of.

Lucius gracefully settles into his chair behind the desk, forcing Hermione to adjust her position so she is facing him.

“Have you made any headway in accommodating my son’s wishes?”

Hermione uncrosses her legs and reaches for her bag, withdrawing a file she places on her lap. The scraping of paper as she opens it was the only sound the room.

“I’ve filled in the paperwork needed for his transfer to a charity run by one of my close friends. I’m sure that if your son is as amendable to being reformed as you claim, he shouldn’t have any problems adjusting to his new situation.” She smiles her Ministry Smile at Lucius before she continues, “the Department of Rehabilitation and Integration would never keep one of their charges in a position which would be disadvantageous to their development.”

“I see. When can we expect this transfer, as you put it, to take place?”

Hermione pushes the paperwork across the desk towards Lucius.

“All I need is the applicant’s signature and I can start the procedure. All the other arrangements have been made. My estimate is that the transfer should be put into action in no less than three months.”

“That is unacceptable, Miss Granger.”

Ah, there it is, this is the moment when Lucius will use the dirt he has on her. Hermione can’t suppress a shiver at his tone, but her voice doesn’t waver when she responds.

“Mr. Malfoy, while I can see how Draco’s current employment situation might be uncomfortable, his life is not in peril and there is nothing I can do. Unless there is a point that you haven’t made so far, hardship case rules do not apply.”

She shuts her briefcase with an audible snap, adjusting her skirt as she rises, getting ready to leave. Any moment now, he will show his hand, she is sure of it.

“We’re done here. Good day, Mr. Malfoy,” she says and turns to go.

“Miss Granger.” Lucius voice is calm, but there is an edge to it that hasn’t been there before. Hermione feels her insides clench at the sound. Today is definitely the day.

“Yes?” she asks, turning towards him again.

“Would you come over here, please? I have a question about the paperwork my son needs to sign.”

She slowly walks to his side of the desk. Both of them know that he hasn’t spared the papers on his desk a single glance. Both of them know that this is the moment where one of them will take the next step. 

Hermione isn’t backing down this time. As strange as it sounds, the waiting is worse. Part of her has kept wondering with every meeting, what else might have happened, where else things could have gone and now she is going to find out.

“What is it, Mr. Malfoy?” she asks, looking directly at him.

“Did you bring it?” asks Lucius, giving up on pretences.

_Gotcha_ , she thinks.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Instead of rising to the bait, Lucius flicks his wand once and the strip of silk slides out of Hermione’s pocket. It floats over to Lucius’ outstretched palm and coils up there like a content snake.

“Turn around.”

Hermione obeys without a second thought. The whisper of fabric behind her telling her that Lucius got up and his warm breath against her neck that he is right behind her.

His hands reach around her and then the smooth and cool length of fabric covers her eyes. Hermione gasps. The darkness is complete. When she reaches up and slides her hands across the band, Lucius takes hold of her wrists and pulls them down to her sides, he squeezes them once, hard. She understands.

She can hear him moving around and from the sounds assumes that he sat back down and is watching her from a distance. Hermione tries not to move, her lack of sight making all her other senses keener and stirring up a restlessness inside her. She shivers in anticipation.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed when she feels his hands on her hips, guiding her backwards. His knees hit the back of hers and she is forced to spread her legs while he walks her further back and then pulls her down into his lap.

Her legs are spread obscenely over his lap. She is forced to stand on tiptoes and it is impossible to keep her balance without leaning back and holding onto the sides of the chair. Her torso arches back towards Lucius. The entire thing feels staged and yet, the idea alone of an invisible audience watching her and Lucius makes her arch her back even more, bearing the side of her neck in a show of submission to the man behind her.

Lucius runs his hands up the inside of her thighs, beginning at the knees and following her stockings until he reached the fabric of her skirt. He slowly pushes upwards and inwards making her shudder with the increasing need his touch wakes inside her. She begins to squirm the closer her to gets where she wants him most.

She can’t hold back from moving into his touch, losing her balance again. The motion causes her to shift around in his lap. Hermione can feel the bulge of his cock begin to grow against her backside. Knowing that even while blindfolded and obedient she has just as much influence over him as he does over her is empowering and she begins to rub back against him on purpose.

When his hand reaches her suspenders and follows their line to her decided lack of underwear his surprised intake of breath stirs the hair at the back of her neck. Lucius squeezes the exposed bit of thigh to try and regain his equilibrium, but Hermione is well aware of the rapid change in his breathing pattern.

Lucius pulls her back sharply so she is now properly sitting on his clothed, hard cock and presses himself all along her back. She can hear the sounds of his inhales as he runs his nose along the tendons of her exposed neck.

“Not so prim and proper after all, are we, Miss Granger?”

When she doesn’t reply he covers her cunt with his hand, rubbing it slowly up and down without giving her any direct stimulus. It only makes her squirm more.

“Are we?” he asks again, this time sticking out his middle finger to run it between the slick folds.

Hermione gasps and pushes back into the touch. She can’t quite suppress the moan that follows. For once Lucius lets her body answer for her. A hot surge of humiliation runs through her at the sound of loss that escapes her, when Lucius removes his hands entirely. She doesn’t know what to do.

An urgent need burns inside her, a need so strong it defies language. All she knows is that if it isn’t sated, if she doesn’t get it under control, it will consume her inside out. Worst of all, she would probably be happy to finally leave the last shreds of herself behind, if only for a moment and if only it gets his hands back on her.

Lucius runs his hands along her sides as if to calm her and strangely enough it works. He follows the lines of her hips and slides his hands under her skirt again, this time stroking her bottom. A teasing finger runs along the part of her crack that is exposed by her arched position on his lap. First just in passing and then getting more and more insistent, circling in on her hole. Hermione shivers again.

Suddenly his hands are gone and something hard and thin is pressed against her hole. She can’t hear what spell he uses, but it leaves her hole slick and relaxed. The wand is removed and Lucius’ fingers return, feeling her stretched hole and spreading the slick substance around, three of them sliding in and out while the magically relaxed muscle still clings to them.

This is really happening. Hermione has never taken anything up her arse and today in this vulnerable position will be the first time. She wonders if she should stop this, right here and now. She knows, she could. No matter how powerful Lucius might be, even after the restrictions the ministry has put on his magic, and even without a wand, Hermione is resourceful. For a moment she hesitates. His fingers are still moving inside her and while it feels strange it doesn’t feel bad either, just new. Despite everything, Lucius has done nothing to hurt her and while that might change, for now curiosity wins out.

Lucius’ fingers make a squelching noise as he pulls them out, before he pushes her slightly forward. She can hear and feel him reaching for his cock and freeing it from his trousers, the fabric moving against her bare skin. His hands alight on her hips and he moves Hermione back to his groin, encouraging her to lift herself up. One of his hands disappear from her hip, but before she can wonder about it, something hard and hot is pressing against her pucker and slowly pushing inside.

From their previous encounter, Hermione already knows Lucius’ cock isn’t small, but it feels huge when he presses it inside her. It hurts where the skin stretches before the head pops inside, instead of pushing in further as she might have expected, Lucius stops. Both his hands are on her hips again, waiting until she begins to squirm. He guides her down and is buried to the root within two more thrusts that are anything but gentle.

Hermione doesn’t know whether it is the spell, or whether her body just got used to it, but soon it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. It actually feels good. Lucius begins to circle his hips, pulling out and pushing back in, in small increments. And then it definitely doesn’t feel anything but great. Hermione actually has trouble holding back her moans. They are still in his office and at any moment someone could ask after them. 

After a particularly delicious thrust, there is a knock on the door. For a moment, Hermione freezes. She tries to get up, but Lucius’ grip on her hips is so strong that it is sure to leave bruises. Part of her rejoices at the physical evidence he will leave behind for her to look at later. Lucius pulls her down so hard that he somehow is buried even deeper inside her, before he slides his hand around her middle, holding her down by placing a hand on her belly.

He is back at her neck, his voice soft but full of authority as he speaks.

“Don’t move, don’t make a sound or they’ll know you are here. And it wouldn’t do if someone caught you in this compromising position now, would it, Miss Granger, after all the trouble we went through.”

Hermione nods mutely. There is nothing else she can do.

Lucius squeezes her thigh once and then does something she hasn’t expected at all.

“Come in please.”

Hermione is about to struggle but Lucius’ hand on her thigh, his words a stark reminder. 

“Good girl,” Lucius says into her ear, the sound barely above a whisper.

There is the sound of someone opening the door and entering the room.

“Father, are you busy?”

Hermione knows that voice. There is not a more precarious position to be caught in than hers, made only the more humiliating by being on display before the owner of that voice.

“No, Draco. What did you want?”

Hermione can’t believe her ears.

“I was just wondering what Miss Granger said.”

“Oh, you mean regarding your situation?”

“Yes.”

_Could it be true, could Draco Malfoy really not see her?_

The whole situation is absurd. She is sitting in Lucius Malfoy’s lap, impaled on his cock and he and his son may as well have been conversing about the weather, as if she isn’t there at all. Maybe Lucius used a kind of modified glamour. Maybe if she doesn’t move too much, Draco won’t be able to see her, just as Lucius promised.

As the conversation continues, her conviction grows. Draco has no idea she is there. Just when she thinks that she may get through this with her dignity intact, Lucius’ hand is back on her, under her skirt and slowly rubbing along her cunt. She just knows, she will not be able to stay quiet if he keeps this up.

When Lucius begins to massage her clit, Hermione can’t suppress a tiny whimper. His other hand immediately comes up to cover her mouth. She draws in a sharp breath and can’t keep herself from squirming as Lucius continues to leisurely stroke her. 

Everything is pleasure and anticipation of discovery in equal measures, her body and its needs overriding the objections her mind is attempting to raise. At the same time the total surrender of control is like an aphrodisiac, silencing the part that is trying to point out how wrong this is.

She is so caught up in the slow rhythm of Lucius’ movement that she loses time. From the sound of it, the conversation between Lucius and his son is drawing to a close, without her having any inclination on what they actually talked about. Draco’s parting words however catch her attention.

“Thanks, father,” Draco pauses, not moving in or out of the room, seemingly undecided on how to proceed. “Incidentally you have a visitor from the old days. He says you’re expecting him. Do you want me to send him away, or...?”

“It’s fine, send him in. Please close the door on your way out.”

“As you wish,” Draco replies, sounding disappointed to Hermione’s ears. It makes her smile. At least there are some people left who aren’t so damaged by the war that they get lost in the grey cracks and crevices in between what is right and wrong. Maybe he is the kind of person Harry needs to work for him after all.

She can hear the shuffling sounds of steps and moving fabric, before the door to the office closes with a final sounding click. Hermione doesn’t know if it is ok to move. Are they alone again? Lucius’ hands on her have stilled, now placed in a possessive hold on her throat and cunt, bending her backwards. It feels like she is on display for an audience she can’t see. If only he would take off the blindfold.

The sound of moving fabric alerts her to a third person in the room. Hermione isn’t sure if the glamour is still working or whether she is entirely comfortable with how things are going. A shiver runs through her when someone kneels down between her and Lucius’ spread legs and the person’s cloak brushes against her skin. Large hands run up her thighs, pushing up her skirt until her cunt and Lucius’ hand are revealed.

Whoever this is just seems to stare at her and with every passing moment Hermione grows more uncomfortable. She tries to struggle, but Lucius’ hand around her throat closes until she has difficulty breathing. Who could Draco have possibly meant with _a visitor from the old days_? Everyone Lucius’ knows, who has Death Eater connections is rightfully rotting in Azkaban, surely. _Unless... Unless..._

Before she can finish her thought, Lucius’ index and middle finger spread and expose her already wet labia and clit to the gaze of the stranger in front of them. His excited breaths feel cool on her and are followed by a single finger spreading her further and stroking along and around her clit.

“There you are, little girl, just waiting for me.”

She knows that voice. Instantly the fight goes out of her. This is still her game and all three of them are playing it. Lucius has only raised the stakes. The slow moan she lets out when Scabior leans forward and licks along her cunt is both calculated and pure relief at having figured Lucius out.

Hermione squirms in Lucius’ slackening hold, moving between his hard length still buried inside her and the questing tongue licking and sucking at her clit. Two fingers soon slide into her and join the tongue and Lucius’ hands actually have to go to her hips to keep her from squirming off his cock. The sounds she is making are far less controlled and she can’t help clenching around fingers and cock as Scabior brings her ever closer to climax.

Her own hands grip the armrests of Lucius’ chair so tight she imagines she can hear the wood creak as she imprints her pleasure into its barely perceptible grooves. She wonders what she looks like, trapped between these two men one putting her on display for the other and both of them taking pleasure in her body while giving her the same.

As if reading her mind, Lucius slowly removes the blindfold from her eyes, letting it rest against her throat. It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light, but when she does, she is looking in a full length mirror that wasn’t there before. Her cheeks are flushed and her pupils wide, the dark strip of fabric against her throat standing out like a collar. The impression is only strengthened by Lucius possessively running his fingers along her skin under the fabric. In the mirror she can see her own chest heave and can see every single tensing motion of her body as Scabior eats her out. 

Hermione studies Lucius and Scabior in the mirror. Lucius has his face buried in her neck and is panting hotly against her skin, while Scabior’s hands look like dark brands on the pale skin of her thighs, declaring ownership over her and her pleasure. She doesn’t mind. She is theirs and they are hers, completely absorbed by her and their shared pleasure.

Her orgasm comes as a shock, running through her body like lightning, igniting every nerve ending and arching her back so far that even Lucius’ hold can’t stop her from dislodging his cock. She lies panting against his chest, eyes closed while both men run their fingers over her trembling thighs and arms.

She is too out of it to notice when Scabior helps Lucius lift her up again. Lucius is moving beneath her, pushing forward and then his cock enters her again in one swift thrust. Four hands are on her hips now, lifting her up and pushing her down again on Lucius’ cock. Hermione feels herself clench around him every time he pushes in deep. She is starting to become over sensitized by the activity, but there is nothing she can do to resist.

The feeling of hairy legs against the inside of her thigh is sudden and alien. She can feel Scabior shuffling closer and on the next down thrust she feels his hard cock sliding against her cunt. For a moment Hermione doesn’t know what is going to happen, but then Lucius holds her up, leaving room for Scabior to enter her cunt.

The moan that tears from her throat when they push her down on both their cocks is entirely involuntary. She feels so incredibly full it is almost unbearable. Scabior is plastered against her front, like Lucius is against her back and his hands are inside her blouse, caressing and squeezing her breasts, while he bites and pants against her throat.

Hermione can’t help but squeeze down on them every time they push into her. They have somehow managed to establish a rhythm where, as one pulls out, the other will inevitably push back in, not letting her rest for even a moment. Her over stimulated body is brought towards something new, the two men taking her far beyond her comfort zone, using her body and showing her how far she can yet go.

Scabior’s hands travel down her torso, stroking along her waist and belly only to return to her clit. He uses his thumb to rub against her clit, eliciting noises from her that are alien even to herself. Hermione has no choice but to lean back into Lucius, resting her head on his shoulder, while Scabior’s thrusts become harder and faster, his thumb increasing in pressure and speed in concert with every push.

The noises they are making are positively obscene. Hermione feels like she is covered in sweat and her own juices. Her body is alight with sensation so strong she is unable to do anything but let herself get carried away.

“Please,” she heard herself beg, feeling like a stranger in her own body, overwhelmed by pleasure. Hermione can’t keep herself up, letting the men move her like a puppet seeking their pleasure in her body, while increasing her own.

Lucius’ thrusts become erratic, his grip on her hips so tight it is sure to leave bruises. His wet, hot breath moves the hair at the back of her neck. She can feel it the moment he tenses behind her, can see his face in the mirror across from her, the abandon there. She realises something she has known all along. She is the one with the power.

With another grunt Lucius comes deep inside her, she can almost taste his release on her tongue. His face is a sight to behold, his eyes closed in pleasure and the upper jaw of his open mouth resting on her now bare shoulder beside the strap of her bra, the teeth likely leaving indentations where they touch her. Hermione doesn’t expect she can come again after the first time, but Scabior’s thrusts and clever fingers push her over the edge.

She cries out, as her orgasm overwhelms her, the pleasure drawing her right back into her body. She can feel Lucius slip out of her while Scabior’s cock twitches deep inside her.

“That’s it, girlie,” he breathes the words against her cheek, while his thumb keeps rubbing her clit, making her abdominal muscles clench over and over, Hermione coming again and again, every climax draining her further. She can feel herself slumping forward, her forehead resting on Scabior’s shoulder, while she pants out what feels like the last of her life force. She is burning up like Icarus. It doesn’t matter that she is falling though or what comes after, Hermione isn’t afraid. The rush of the descent to Merlin knows where, is just as exhilarating as she anticipated. 

For once she feels like she belongs in this new world, like she finally found a crack to vanish into, without regrets and lies, just plain truth.

Eventually Scabior lets his now soft cock slip out of her and gets up, setting his clothes to right. He reaches for her chin and pulls her head up until she is looking right into his eyes.

“You see, little girl, this is the real you, right here, right now. You belong to us, don’t you?”

She can only nod, lowering her gaze in apparent shame. Hermione knows what she is. On the outside she may be prim and proper Miss Granger, but scratch the surface and she is just as twisted as they are. 

“Remember this, next time you want to rise above your betters. You’re ours.” Scabior lets go of her chin. It is an effort to keep her head up and not slump over even further. Behind her, Lucius is leaning against her back, still panting.

Maybe she is theirs, she thinks, as she watches Scabior walk away. He reaches down to grab the coat she has come to treasure so much.

“I believe this is mine,” he says, before taking it and sauntering from the room, leaving the door to the office wide open. The mirror charm fading with his departure.

Hermione knows that if she is to act, she has to do it now. While her own wand is in her bag across the room, she knows exactly where Lucius keeps his. His breathing has slowed, but the fact that his forehead still rests against her spine and that he is slowly running his hands up and down her thighs, tell her that he is still not entirely focused. 

She makes a grab for his wrist and locates his wand immediately. Even though he tries to prevent her from taking it, Hermione is faster. It only takes a moment to completely incapacitate him.

Hermione gets up on shaky legs, Scabior’s words ringing strangely true, when she begins to straighten her skirt and blouse, becoming Miss Granger again. Hermione tenderly brushes across the bruises on her hips that are already beginning to form. They feel like the brand they are supposed to be and she already knows that while she will heal the soreness in her arse and cunt, she will leave the bruises to remind her.

Hermione goes for her bag, taking her own wand to heal herself rather than to rely on a wand she has no experience with. She feels a pang of loss as soon as the soreness is gone. The evidence of what happened already disappearing, the mask settling back into place. When she straightens up, her clothes all set in order, she can still feel their come trailing down her thighs along with her own juices.

Looking around for something to clean herself up with, her gaze falls on a dark strip of fabric on the floor. It is the blindfold Lucius sent her. She hesitates only a moment, before picking it up and wiping it along the inside of her thighs. She is tempted to leave it on Lucius’ desk for him to find when he wakes, but it wouldn’t mean anything. So she decides against it and thrusts it into her purse. Finally she takes out her pocket mirror and reluctantly removes the bite marks and the stubble burn along her throat.

At last she turns back to the man in the chair. She studies him, where he lies. His flaccid cock still hanging out of his robes and several strands of his long blond hair having come undone from the usually pristine braid.

Scabior may have been right, she thinks, as she tucks Lucius back into his trousers and cleans him up with a quick spell. She belongs to them. But what he doesn’t understand is that they belong to her just as much. Hermione gently brushes Lucius’ hair back behind his ears and obliviates him almost as an afterthought.

None of them have managed to escape Lord Voldemort’s darkness unscathed, not even the people that are on his side. Hermione places Lucius’ wand on the desk in front of him, before heading for the door, closing it quietly behind her. He will wake in time and if she knows anything about him, he will seek her out again, even without his memories of their encounters, just like Scabior.

They are her monsters and she is their keeper.

She grins. _Now, about that coat._

**Author's Note:**

> Hermione like in the other fics decides to give up her power, in several moments she feels vulnerable but the situation is either resolved to something she is ok with or the situation is cleared up.


End file.
